Death's Last Note
by Hanni98
Summary: The dreams that Katniss wakes up to every night continue to haunt her. She is terrified at the possibility of her horrible night mares coming true. What will Katniss do to make things right; the secound chance at her happily everafter...Or not?
1. Chapter 1

Hi! This is my first Hunger Games fanfic so tell me how I did!

Okay the song Rue sings is called 'Rues lullaby. Susan Collins wrote this and I changed it so it is legal on fan fiction. I swear I read the rules.

So I don't want to get any 'that's not aloud; reviews because it's legal.

Thanks to Gaaras1Girl for all the help on writing and fan fiction rules!

This is a dream, so it's not the best thing I could ever write.

I am so thankful to you.

This is set like the last chapter in MOCKINGJAY didn't happen!

Enjoy,

Hanni {98}

**Katniss **

_I'm back in the arena, the first arena. The place where it all started._

_The trees graze my cheek as I walk through the forest, small animals scurry around in the bushes, everything is so peaceful, almost like none of those horrible things ever happened ._

_I reach the final resting place of Rue; where she died. There is a small body lying there, covered in flowers, my flowers._

_I walk unsurely forward, falling to my knees before the flower patch. I disturb a patch of the flowers, there delicate petals coming apart and scattering in the wind. I find myself looking down upon Rue's, once young and beautiful, decomposing face._

_The tears thicken and fall on her twisted face_

_She is a pale greenish colour; patches in some places are missing, revealing starch white bone. _

_I scratch at the scar on my wrist, gasping when my nails cut into my skin; blood freely falling on the flowers._

_I feel a tear drop down my face. This is one of the things, the people, which never in a million years should've happened. No twelve -year- old should face blood spill in a horrible, twisted game where no one comes out. No one should face being in a place where all hope is gone._

_In a way this is like hell: once you're in, there's no coming out._

_As I'm gazing at her disoriented face something rough and cold grasp my wrist. The dead Rue brings her our attached hands up to her face and opens her mouth._

'_Are you, are you  
>Coming to the tree<br>Where they strung up a man they say murdered three…._

_Are you, are you  
>coming to the tree<br>wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me._

_Strange things did happen here  
>No stranger would it be<br>If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree'_

_I look horrified at her, singing in her sweet voice. Her melody seams triples as though all of Pamen is singing._

_I hear a choking noise all around me and glance down at Rue to see is it's her. Rue's hand touches my face and brings it up;_

_My mother, my father, my little sister, Cinema, Peeta, Haymitch, Effie, and Gale are among the faces I can make out through my heavy tears._

_They're all scattered around the forest hanging on trees, a blood red necklace of rope tied around there necks. I gap horrified at the picture before me, looking at the people that I live for._

_Rue's cold hand, still on my chin, forces my head down to look at her again. Her eyes open, except she has no eyes. A red bloody mess takes the place of her eye ball._

"_Make it right, Katniss," Her voice is gravelly and shaky, "Do what you know has to be done,"_

"_I did, I tried "I try to explain, but she cuts in with a high pitched murderous scream. My other loved ones join in and the tears thicken, remembering the pain they've gone through on account of me._

_I join in on deaths melody, the last note I heard from some of them._

That's when I wake up, scream like I was in the dream. I have them every night, every night I wake up screaming or crying.

Or both.

I made it right, or at least I tried. I lay my head back down on my pillow, trying to drown out their horrible song.

**Review and tell me what you think.**

_**I want three (3) reviews before I continue on.**_

**Hanni {98}**


	2. Chapter 2

**HI! I was happy with the reviews! I'm glad I could touch some of your hearts & make people cry: D! **

**I just want to make this clear that you aren't reading a Peeta and Katniss story or a Gale and Katniss thing. It is like a Katniss story! I always admired Katniss because she is so strong and brave, and I don't think she needs a guy!**

**I never really liked Katniss with either of them, but I like Gale as a character that I liked more than Peeta.**

**So basically it's just a {hopefully} well written plot about how Katniss is managing her life.**

**Okay, so Enjoy,**

**Hanni {98}**

**Chapter 2**

**Katniss Everdeen**

Every day I force myself out of the paralyzing dreams I seem to have on a daily basis and go into the sunlit woods. I don't necessarily hunt; I walk unsteadily throughout the seemingly alive forest. Occasionally, I remain rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on a memory; a sweet memory of my father, a happy time of Gale and me, at the time when he didn't live miles, and miles away. Every time I think of him, the joyful happy memories and the painful sad memories seem to blend together. There is nothing left.

Even if Gale was right beside me, standing silhouetted in the thickets, I would reach my scarred hand out to touch him, but I would never reach him where it matters; in the heart.

At least right now, I'm not extending my hand out to anyone. My only friend is the woods, but even they have turned on me myself.

Peeta is a different matter all together. What we used to have and what we had in the arena are two opposites. He finally sees me as he should, how I see myself.

I would spend the day sitting on the lush colourful toughs of greenery that grows on top of the burial ground of District 12. The farther and longer I wander around in the trees brings back memories of my father. The way he looked at me with such a careful loving expression, like he would sacrifice himself for me. But he never got the chance. It was me who took care of his slowly starving family. It was me who sacrifices myself for his beautiful daughter, ruining the country, other people, and more than anything; me.

Although that was probably well deserved; it still hurts to look in the mirror; every time I take even a glance I am seeing a dead light in my grey eyes, so I look away. I suppose I was never one for mirrors anyway.

I barely speak anymore; I sing. Not to anyone other than the mocking jays, but that always reminds me of the rebellion; the rebellion that never should have happened, the rebellion that's always seems to be on my mind, no matter how hard I try to forget.

"Katniss," Haymitch says, "You have a letter from the president, you and Peeta both,"

I look wordlessly at him.

Haymitch studies me, then lets out an exasperated breath, "Say something, girl!"

Haymitch and I are different: many say he is like a father to me, but I really don't have an opinion on that. I suppose that when I really think about it he is an impacting part of my life, but I wouldn't go as far to say 'father'…he's more of an 'uncle'. Not that I'd ever dare to call him something like that.

I glance at his tattered and stained attire, his rugged, heavily bearded face, and the liquor bottle clutched in his left hand. I realize this is the first thing he's said to me in months, maybe my 'uncle' has finally stopped trying to drink his troubles away.

I finally speak up, after Haymitch and I having an unplanned staring contest,

"Take a bath, "I say, remembering the happier time before the rebellion when I said a similar thing to him, "and get yourself somewhat presentable."

I turn on the heels and walk across the lawn leading to my identical house.

I stop on my polished front step, reaching into my mail box taking out the hundreds of letters the postman has somehow stuffed in the small box. I pile my arms full of envelopes and march into the house, dumping the letters on the gigantic dining room table, not before turning on enough lights to attract aliens.

As I'm sorting through the mail, a small, yellow envelope catches my attention. It has a gold sticker on it with the symbol of a mocking jay; the new coat of arms for Panem. I rip open its folding to find a plain sheet of white paper with the handwritten words:

_Dear Katniss Everdeen_

_I'm happy to say this past year as being president has gone well; we have almost managed to get Panem in a civilized state. I cannot go into details about my running, but I assure you I will tell you in person._

_I am asking your permission for a large party of former rebels to come to District 12. It is sort of a party, I suppose or an annual holiday celebrating the rebels rise to power. It's called 'The day of the Mocking Jay' .We are also celebrating a girl from District 12 who sang out so beautifully that all of  
>Panem had to take time to listen. We would like to hold it this year in 12, so please let us know when you are ready for your fellow rebels to join you. Please tell us quickly, so that we can continue with our busy preparations.<em>

_I hope our little mocking jay is well and still singing her beautiful songs,_

_Sincerely,_

_Joanne Paylor_

_The President of Panem_

_PS. Effie Trinket helped me write this, so that may why you're wondering who this is._

I lay my head on the table, running my hand over the cool, slippery surface. A party with all of the rebels I've been so careful to avoid are coming to my district, coming to celebrate myself, coming to celebrate the rebellion that has gone so wrong. I hope I have a say in this, but at the moment the odds don't 'look in my favor' to well.

Oh, well: At least I'll have the woods to hide in.

**Hi!**

**Remember to review, and all that.**

**I hope you liked it!**

**H98**


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